


I Ain't Gonna Face No Defeat

by accidentallymelted



Category: You Could Make a Life Series - Taylor Fitzpatrick
Genre: Background Tate Williams/Owen Thomson, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28178154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accidentallymelted/pseuds/accidentallymelted
Summary: “Money, my man.” Willy has a manic light in his eyes. “You don’t have a date for the wedding, right?”“Uh,” Joey says, completely thrown. “No?”
Relationships: Joey Munroe/Nick Angelopoulos
Comments: 14
Kudos: 32





	1. 3.5 Months to Wedding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [turifer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/turifer/gifts).



> This was created as part of the YCMAL Holiday Fanwork Exchange 2020, and is my gift for [turifer ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/turifer/pseuds/turifer). Happy Holidays, turifer, I hope you like it! 
> 
> Title from Somebody To Love, by Queen. This fic has been completed, and I'm going to post a chapter a day until it's all up.

“Willy’s going to be late,” Joey informs Owen as he slides into the booth. The bar is crowded but not too loud yet, so he doesn’t have to shout to make himself heard. Owen grimaces.

“He texted something about killing Shithead,” Owen reports. “Do I want to know?”

“They’re having some sort of competition. I didn’t hear all the details, but,” Joey looks around and lowers his voice. “Ordinarily, Willy would totally wipe the floor with Shithead. He’s just been on a crazy hot streak with clients that like the arrogant asshole thing or whatever. And. . . “ He trails off as Owen’s grimace gets worse.

“And Willy’s been . . . distracted lately.”

Distracted is a very nice way to put it. Willy doesn’t deserve Owen.

“It’s not about deserving me, Joey,” Owen says, laughing a little, and also looking touched. Joey’s not sure why Owen looks touched – he’s pretty sure that he’s told Owen before that Willy doesn’t deserve him, although they were both pretty drunk at the time, so maybe Owen doesn’t remember.

“I’m pretty sure he’ll go back to normal after the wedding,” Owen says. Joey really hopes so.

“So tell me what batshit thing Willy did recently during wedding planning,” he says, because he knows his role in this relationship. Also, he’s saving all of these stories to mock Willy with for years. Willy has too much ammo on Joey – this is his chance to get some of his own back.

Owen lets out a groan and slumps forward, not quite banging his head on the table. That’s probably a good move – the tables in this bar are a little sticky. “The invitations didn’t arrive when they were supposed to.”

Joey frowns. “I thought that you’d already sent out the invitations?”

Owen shakes his head, laughing. Joey thinks that it sounds a little hysterical, and he looks Owen over with concern. Owen is the stable one in the Willy/Owen relationship. If Owen cracks, then everything is doomed.

“Those are Save the Dates, Joey, not invitations.”

“Oh.” Joey isn’t sure what the difference is between a Save the Date and an invitation. He makes a mental note to google it later.

“Anyway, the invitations hadn’t arrived when they were supposed to, so Tate called the printing company. There was some sort of mix up at the printers – I only heard his half of the conversation, but whatever it was, the invitations weren’t ready yet.” Joey winces, and Owen nods. “Anyway, the invitations should be here by Wednesday, and we got a 30% refund on what we paid for them.”

And probably an apology fruit basket, Joey bets. Joey has never personally experienced Willy angry at _him_. Joey has in fact gone out of his way in order to make sure that Willy is never angry at him – but he has witnessed some other unfortunates getting the full Tate Williams Is Displeased experience. That is, in fact, why Joey has been very careful to avoid it.

“Anything you need help with this weekend?” Joey asks. Owen pulls out his phone and consults his calendar.

“Don’t think so,” he says. He smiles at Joey and Joey smiles back. He got over his crush on Owen a long time ago – he’s been with Willy for almost as long as Joey’s known him – but Owen’s smile still lights up his face and it’s physically impossible for Joey not to smile back at him. “Thanks for the offer, and all of your help already. You’ve been a lifesaver, Joey, honestly.”

Joey shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. He doesn’t think he’s done that much, honestly – just tagged along when Owen or Willy needed him and gave his opinion when asked for it. He’s pretty sure that they’d do the same thing for him – provided, of course, that Joey could ever manage to find someone to date, let alone get to marry him.

They shift into more general catching up after that – Owen gives Joey the rundown on the current drama going on in his lab, where two of the other grad students are currently locked into a battle to the death over what music is played in the lab (Joey isn’t sure why either of them can’t just wear headphones but apparently now it is a matter of _principle_ ), and Joey tells Owen what he knows about the competition going on amongst the sales team right now, and also about how Scratch locked himself in the office supplies cabinet at work accidentally and had to call Joey to come and let him out. Willy arrives just as Joey is wrapping up his impression of Scratch’s hangdog expression and slides into the booth next to Owen.

“I am going to kill Shithead, and you, Money, are going to help me hide the body,” he says, with such certainty in his tone that Joey catches himself nodding in agreement and has to change it mid-nod into looking over at the bar to see if the bartender is busy. She’s not, so he gets up, mumbling about getting a refill, and heads over, hoping that Willy didn’t have time to notice that he still has about half of his drink left.

When he gets back to the booth, Owen appears to have calmed him down some but hasn’t managed to get the manic light in Willy’s eyes to go away completely. Joey approaches them warily, and slows down even more when Willy glances his way and the manic expression increases.

“Money, my man.” Joey slides into the booth with a wary glance at Owen, who shrugs. Clearly he doesn’t know what Willy is up to any more than Joey does. “The invitation fiasco got me thinking.” Joey is officially afraid, now. “You don’t have a date for the wedding, right?”

“Uh,” Joey says, completely thrown. “No?”

Willy’s smile gets even bigger. Joey eyes the bar longingly, but he literally just got back and hasn’t even taken a sip of his drink yet, he can’t flee. Willy would just follow him.

“I have the perfect dude for you, then,” Willy says, and starts waxing poetic about some guy named Ulf who he’d met at a mixer. Joey is so horrified that he’s only getting about one word in five but he manages to pick up that Ulf is hot, plays hockey, and works in sales at a different company than theirs (he assumes, at least, from what he understands). What he’s not hearing is anything that makes him think that this paragon would actually _want_ to be his date to Willy and Owen’s wedding, so this is a pity date.

The worst thing Joey can think of is taking a _pity date_ to Owen and Willy’s wedding.

“Babe, can you go get me a refill?” Owen asks, handing Willy his empty glass. Willy takes it, and with a final, “I’m serious, Money, I think this could work out,” disappears to the bar.

There’s a beat of silence. “He means well,” Owen says, finally.

Joey groans.

⁂

“Dude,” Scratch says.

“I know,” Joey says. His voice is probably muffled from where he’s buried face down in his couch.

“Dude,” Scratch says again.

“I _know_ ,” Joey says.

“Dude,” Scratch says, more emphatically, and Joey finally turns his face out of the pillow and looks at Scratch, who looks like he’s about 5 seconds from breaking out into horrible, cackling laughter.

“Shut up,” he says pre-emptively.

“Make me. Jesus, Money, only you,” Scratch says, as he comes over to the couch and throws one long arm around Joey’s shoulders.

“You’re a terrible friend,” Joey informs him.

“I’m the best friend you’ve ever had,” Scratch says. This is probably true, unfortunately. He had, after all, turned up at Joey’s apartment with beer less than 5 minutes after getting Joey’s “SOS” text. It was a little less impressive given that he only lived two floors down, but still. It was better than Casey, who had responded to the text message Joey sent her with a crying laughing emoji and nothing else. Stupid sisters. Scratch, at least, is here, even if he’s laughing at Joey’s pain. “So who are you going to take to the wedding?”

“Apparently some guy named Ulf,” Joey says, and he and Scratch share a moment of horror. Scratch shakes his head at the end of it.

“Joey, c’mon. The wedding’s in what, three months?”

“Three and a half,” Joey says. Scratch give him the side-eye, which, what. Joey is a good friend, okay? Joey knows when things are. Joey spent almost three hours helping Owen stuff envelopes with Save the Date cards, which apparently aren’t even invitations.

“You can definitely find a date in three and a half months,” Scratch says, which is a level of optimism about Joey’s prospects that should not be held by someone who was present for Joey’s total and complete failure at asking Owen out when they’d met. “Well, probably, anyway.” Joey groans and lets his head thunk back against Scratch’s arm. “Maybe?”

“I’m so fucked,” Joey says, and Scratch nods in agreement.

“Want me to put on Parks and Rec?” he asks, and Joey nods.


	2. 3 Weeks to Wedding

“Money,” Willy says, leaning up against the entrance to Joey’s cubicle. Joey jumps so violently that he accidentally unplugs his headphones from his computer.

“Willy! You scared the shit out of me,” he says, carefully taking his headphones off and putting them on his desk before getting up to check that nothing’s actually broken. When he’s finished he takes a deep breath and tries to get his heartrate under control before turning around. “What do you want?”

“You haven’t RSVP’d to the wedding yet,” Willy says. It sounds like a neutral observation, but Joey doesn’t trust it. It’s definitely a trap.

“You definitely know I’m coming, though,” he says. “I’ve told you I’m coming, I have it on my calendar and everything.” He pulls up his calendar and holds it out to Willy for inspection.

This feeble attempt at a distraction doesn’t faze Willy. He doesn’t even bother looking at the calendar. “Money, I know _you’re_ coming.” The emphasis on “you’re” is worrisome. “But we need to know if you’re bringing a plus one.”

“Uh.” Joey is trapped. He does not have a good answer to this question. Willy is still wearing the crazy eyes, although they’re definitely wedding-related crazy eyes – the sales team had wrapped up their competition two weeks ago. Willy took top prize, because of course he did.

“Money.” Willy’s voice is patient. “We need to know by the end of the week how many people are coming, so we can let the venue and the caterers know. So. Do you have a date for the wedding?”

Joey opens his mouth to admit that he does not, in fact, have a date for the wedding and closes it again without answering. Willy has mentioned Ulf, the hot sales guy, several times since that first time at the bar, hinting that he would be happy to set up a meeting for the two of them. Joey has managed to get away each time without agreeing to a date but he thinks his luck may have run out. Willy is standing in the doorway to his cube, blocking the only exit, and the only way to get away from a determined Willy is to distract him with something else and make yourself scarce during the brief moment that buys you. Joey doesn’t have anything to distract him with.

“Yo, Money, you ready?” Scratch’s eyes and the mess of his curly hair appear over the wall of Joey’s cube not far from where Willy is standing at the entrance, and Joey could kiss him for his timing.

“Yes,” Joey says, quickly, and Willy pounces.

“Yes, you have a date for the wedding?”

“Uh,” Joey says, turning back to Willy, a little wrong-footed. “Scratch . . . ?”

Scratch looks like he’s not sure what he just walked into, but he rallies gamely. “Yes?”

“You’re taking Scratch?” Willy looks between Scratch, still standing in the corridor between the cubicles and Joey, who absolutely does not know how Willy arrived at that conclusion based on what just happened.

Joey attempts to communicate “What the fuck?” to Scratch using just his eyebrows. Scratch is also using his eyebrows to attempt to communicate something, but Joey isn’t used to interpreting Eyebrow without the rest of Scratch’s body language to back it up.

“Uh,” he says again, trying to stall for time.

“Yeah,” Scratch says.

“Huh,” Willy says. “I didn’t think the two of you were . . .” he trails off for a second, then cocks his head to the side. “Actually, I don’t know why I’m surprised.”

 _Joey_ is surprised. Joey is so surprised that he can’t quite get his voice to work to tell Willy that he’s wrong, Scratch isn’t his date to the wedding, actually. Scratch is _straight_.

“Well! Good for both of you!” Willy actually sounds _excited_ , which, what the fuck. “Money, you don’t need to put a plus one on your invitation, Scratch has his own.” Which, yeah, Joey knows that, but that doesn’t explain what’s happening here.

Joey looks up, and Scratch is standing in front of him. Willy’s gone.

“What just happened?”

“You blue-screened for a second there, bud,” Scratch says. He sounds casual, but it’s a lie.

“Did you – did you tell Willy that you were my date for the wedding?”

“You’re _my_ date for the wedding, actually,” Scratch says. So that did just happen.

“Why?”

Scratch looks a little uncomfortable. “Look, why don’t we go to lunch,” he says. “We can talk about it there.”

⁂

“Scratch,” Joey says, once the waiter has taken their orders. Joey actually had brought a lunch today, but he wants to have this conversation in the cafeteria in front of all of his coworkers like he wants a hole in the head.

“Money,” Scratch says. Joey waits. There’s no follow up.

“Scratch,” he says again.

“Money,” Scratch says. Joey glares at him. Scratch is looking at everything except Joey.

“Scratch,” Joey says. “What the fuck?”

“Huh?” Scratch finally looks at Joey, and winces at whatever expression Joey’s wearing.

“I _said_ I didn’t want a pity date,” Joey says, and Scratch looks offended.

“Fuck you, I’m not a pity date.” Joey looks skeptical. “I’m _not_. Look, you don’t want to go with whoever Willy has lined up for you, right?”

“Ulf,” Joey mumbles. He doesn’t want to go with Ulf, no, but he also doesn’t want to go with Scratch because Scratch feels sorry for him.

“Seriously, who the fuck is this guy,” Scratch demands. Joey shrugs.

“Hot Swedish sales guy, apparently.” Scratch suddenly looks hunted

“Whatever. You don’t want to go with Ulf, right?”

“No.” Scratch relaxes. Joey is so confused.

“ _So_ , go with me. I was going to the wedding anyway, and this way Willy gets off your back.”

“What do you get out of it?” Joey is suspicious. This isn’t the first office wedding that they’ve been to and Scratch has never seemed to mind going alone before.

“The pleasure of your company,” Scratch says. Joey gives him the finger and Scratch laughs, probably because the waiter arrives with their food just then and Joey has to quickly cover like he was scratching his nose.

“Seriously,” Joey says, after they’ve spent a couple of minutes in silence eating. Scratch’s mouth is completely full with the giant cheeseburger he’s devouring but he raises an eyebrow at Joey in inquiry. “What do you get out of pretending to be my date for the wedding?”

Scratch has to finish chewing and swallowing his mouthful before he answers. “First of all, I am _actually_ going to be your date for this wedding.”

Joey gives him the finger again. “You know what I mean, Scratch! What do you get out of pretending to date me?”

Scratch rolls his eyes, but thinks for a second before answering. “Honestly? The pleasure of messing with Willy.”

Joey pauses. “I don’t know that we want to be messing with Willy right now,” he says cautiously. There is a lot of pleasure to be had in pulling one over on Willy normally, but Normal Willy has left the building.

“We tell him _after_ the honeymoon.”

Joey considers this. “Okay, but there’s three weeks until the wedding,” he says. “It’s one thing to fake for like, a day, but Willy’s going to expect us to be dating until the wedding.”

“Uh huh,” Scratch says. Joey squints at him.

“You’re okay with that?”

“What the fuck, Joey. I said I was, didn’t I?” Scratch asks. There’s a pause. “You’re thinking mean things about yourself again, aren’t you.”

“True things,” Joey mutters. He doesn’t really understand why Scratch is so okay with this – not only will this prevent him from picking up between now and the wedding, it means that he’s okay with people thinking that he’s dating _Joey_. Joey’s undatable. The whole office knows that Joey never has a boyfriend. And also – “You’re straight, though!”

Scratch looks offended. “When did I say that?”

“Uh.” Joey has to think about that. “But you’ve only ever dated women?”

“So?”

“So it seemed like a reasonable assumption,” Joey says. Scratch shakes his head.

“I haven’t met a guy that I wanted to date, before,” he says. “Also, fuck you, stop thinking you’re undatable. If we were dating, I’d be lucky.” He reaches across the table and puts one big hand across Joey’s mouth before he can say anything else. “Money. You’re my best friend. Trust me, okay?”

Joey licks his palm, but Scratch just grimaces and doesn’t move his hand. It’s not fair that he’s so much bigger than Joey, really – Joey’s not small, Scratch is just a giant. “If you say mean things about yourself I’m gonna have to give you a noogie,” Scratch says. “And that will be embarrassing for both of us. But mostly you. So.” He takes his hand away from Joey’s mouth, finally, but Joey knows that threat was genuine.

“Fine,” Joey says. “I guess you can be my fake boyfriend.”

“Awww,” Scratch pressed both hands to his heart and flutters his eyelashes at Joey, like an asshole. “Money, you romantic.” And honestly, the only possible response to that is to give Scratch the finger again, just as the server comes over to give them the check. Joey leaves an extra-large tip as an apology. Scratch is still laughing as they leave the restaurant and head back to the office.


	3. 2 Days to Wedding

Joey is late to the bachelor party, _not_ because it’s at a karaoke bar and he is filled with dread, but because he had to spend several hours this afternoon deciphering Shithead’s expense reports. That’s his story and he’s sticking to it, even if it means that everyone else is there and well on their way to drunk when he gets to the karaoke bar.

“Money!”

Willy and Owen are the first to notice him as he makes his way over to where they’re holding court. They’d decided to just have a joint bachelor party, since there’s enough of an overlap between their friend groups.

(“Also, Willy is a romantic,” Owen said to Joey. “And he said that he didn’t want to spend the time without me.”)

“Hey, you two,” Joey says. “Congratulations on making it this far.” They all wince as feedback whines across the bar’s sound system, then cuts out. Joey can see people gathering near a stage at the other end of the bar.

“Thanks, Joey,” Owen says after a moment of waiting to see if there’ll be any more feedback. Willy looks Joey up and down.

“You don’t have a drink,” he announces. Joey looks at Owen, who rolls his eyes tolerantly.

“He just got here, Tate.”

“It’s a party! You should have a drink,” Willy says as he starts to get up.

“I can get my own drink,” Joey says, trying to forestall Willy, who ignores him and starts toward the bar, staggering. “I really can get my own drink,” he tells Owen, who is looking after Willy with a very mushy expression.

“Yes, but Tate likes doing things for his friends,” Owen says. “Especially when he’s drunk.”

That does sound like Willy, so Joey lets it go. He does resolve not to let Willy buy him drinks all night, because Willy is already very drunk and looks poised to get drunker.

“What are you going to be singing tonight?”

Joey’s shoulders slump. “Do I have to sing?” he asks weakly.

“Everyone has to sing,” Owen says firmly. He and Willy really are perfect for each other. Joey is going to have to try and lurk around the back of the party until Owen and Willy are both drunk enough to forget that he hasn’t sung.

“Lee, will you please make sure that Joey signs up for karaoke?” Owen asks, and Joey glances behind him in time to see Trigger give Owen a thumbs up.

“No fair bringing Trigger into this,” Joey hisses. Owen takes a long sip of his drink, ignoring Joey. Trigger had taken the news that Scratch and Joey were dating now a lot better than Joey had expected but he’d still given Joey one of the more terrifying shovel talks he’s ever heard. They’d been out at dinner with some of their other friends (not Owen and Willy) and Joey had dragged Scratch over towards the bathroom as soon as he could to demand an explanation.

“Two people can keep a secret when one of them is dead,” Scratch had said, and when Joey had said nothing, unimpressed, he looked sheepish. “We can tell them if you want, but one of them’ll get drunk and tell Willy.” Joey had had to agree that this was probably true, and they’d gone back out to the table and spent the rest of the night being chirped for what they’d (theoretically) been doing off alone together, much to Joey’s dismay.

“Vodka soda, splash of cran,” Willy announces, handing Joey a glass and interrupting his train of thought. He leans into Owen, who turns and gives him a brilliant smile. Joey mumbles something that might be goodbye and flees, taking his drink with him.

He doesn’t get far – he’s only about a table away when he feels a hand land on his shoulder.

“You have to sign up for karaoke,” Trigger says. Joey tries to tug away but Trigger doesn’t let go, and in fact begins hauling them both towards the karaoke machine. Joey tries to put up a fight, but Trigger is very strong, and prone to fighting dirty. Joey is in a headlock when Scratch appears out of the crowd, a smile on his face.

“Money! You finally made it!” He looks at the two of them and cocks his head to one side. “What’s up?”

“Money has to sign up for karaoke,” Trigger says. The bastard’s not even out of breath. Joey squirms feebly in his hold but is ignored as Trigger looks at Scratch and an evil light dawns in his eyes. “Have you signed up for karaoke yet?”

“Uh,” Scratch says, which is how he and Joey get signed up to sing a duet.

“We should at least be able to pick our own song,” Joey complains, watching as Trigger scribbles their names on the clipboard.

“Tough shit,” Trigger says. Joey looks up at Scratch, hoping that maybe he’ll be able to call Trigger off.

“Trigger,” Scratch starts, but Trigger just gives him a flat stare. Apparently, puppy eyes from your BFF gets trumped by the will of the grooms or some shit. Scratch gives up. “At least can we see what we’re supposed to be singing? To make sure we both know it?”

“Oh, you know it,” Trigger says, and refuses to let them look at the clipboard before handing it off to the bar employee who’s acting as emcee for the evening, and their fate is sealed. Joey and Scratch share a look of mutual despair.

“Are you _sure_ he doesn’t know we’re faking it?” Joey asks a few minutes after Trigger’s wandered off. Scratch is usually the Trigger whisperer.

Scratch shakes his head. “ _I_ didn’t tell him.” The emcee begins announcing the first person on the list. “At least we won’t be singing for a while.”

“True. We have time to get drunk first,” Joey says, and Scratch grins crookedly.

“Cheers to that,” he says, and taps his beer against Joey’s vodka soda.

⁂

The karaoke part of the bachelor party is hilarious – or it would be, if Joey weren’t grimly aware that his time is coming. To numb the pain, he and Scratch have been working their way through trying the various types of vodka that the bar offers. Or – Joey has been trying different vodkas. Scratch has been drinking beer, but like. A lot of it.

“Have we been doing a good job?” Joey asks abruptly, after his third vodka soda (splash of cran). Scratch, on beer number three, wrinkles his nose in confusion.

“A good job drinking?”

“No, a good job acting like we’re dating,” Joey says. He’s not sure why he’s suddenly concerned about it, but he’s definitely concerned.

“I guess?” Scratch seems totally unconcerned. Joey wishes he felt like that, but all of the sudden he’s convinced that they haven’t been doing a good job, and all of their friends _know_.

“No, seriously,” Joey says, glancing around. One of Owen’s college friends is up on the stage right now, mangling “You Give Love A Bad Name.” He doesn’t see anyone looking at them but he could be missing it. Scratch looks around too and sighs, putting his beer back on the bar.

“Money,” he says, and reaches out to grab Joey by the chin and pull him back around to look at him. Joey blinks, confused. Scratch has his serious face on. “Money, we’ve been doing _fine_. Nobody has said anything. Nobody’s _going_ to say anything.”

“How do you know,” Joey tries to ask, but Scratch still has him by the chin so it comes out garbled. Scratch seems to understand anyway. He rolls his eyes.

“Because no one looks at two guys who are going to a wedding together and says they must be faking it because one of them is scared of one of the grooms setting him up with someone, Money. Most people don’t really think that much about other people.”

Joey thinks this over. “Willy does,” he says. “Owen does.”

“Willy and Owen are _getting married,_ ” Scratch says.

“Not tonight,” Joey says.

“I think it’s too late for Willy to find you another date for the wedding,” Scratch says.

“It’s Willy,” Joey mutters. “Don’t underestimate him.”

Just then the guy singing finishes his performance and there’s mocking applause, sprinkled with boos and catcalls. The emcee makes her way up onto the stage and glances down at her clipboard. Joey tenses, but she just says, “And now, Tate and Owen, singing ‘Can You Feel The Love Tonight.’”

Willy and Owen make their way up to the stage to a _lot_ of catcalling and applause, arms around each other’s shoulders as the emcee hands Willy another mic. The music starts, and they start singing – they aren’t terrible, certainly a lot better than the last guy, but they keep having to stop to laugh at each other, so the song keeps getting interrupted.

“Do you feel like we need to be acting differently?” Scratch asks, and Joey turns to look at him, confused.

“Differently than what?”

“Differently than we’re acting,” Scratch says, and Joey squints at him.

“For what?”

“Oh my god,” Scratch mutters, and waves for a new beer. “To convince other people that we’re dating,” he says, as a new beer is brought to him.

Joey tilts his head to one side, considering. “You need to hold my hand more,” he says, finally, and Scratch stares at him, stopped in the middle of taking a drink.

“I can do that,” Scratch says, finally. Joey nods, and goes to take a sip of his drink before finding it empty.

“I need a new drink,” he announces, and Scratch snorts.

“You really do not,” he says. “Nope, you’re cut off.” When Joey ignores him and leans around him, trying to flag the bartender down, Scratch reaches over and grabs his hand. Joey stares at it.

“You’re holding my hand,” he says.

“You just asked me to,” Scratch says. “Jesus, Money, did you eat anything before you came out?”

Joey thinks about this, still staring at where Scratch is holding his hand. Scratch has really big hands, he notices. And his hands aren’t super sweaty or anything, so it’s nice holding hands with him.

“I’m guessing that’s a no, then,” Scratch says, and Joey jerks his head up.

“Sorry, what?”

“Did you eat anything before you came out?” Scratch asks, and Joey thinks about it.

“I got a sandwich from the cafeteria before it closed,” he volunteers, and Scratch reaches up to put his head in his hands without letting go of Joey.

“No wonder you’re so far gone,” he says. Joey almost doesn’t hear him, but he’s looking at where his hand is now resting against Scratch’s forehead, so he sees Scratch’s mouth move.

“Why aren’t you drunk too?”

“Oh, I’m drunk, Money, but I’ve been drinking beer and I actually had dinner before I came, so I look sober in comparison to you.”

Joey starts to consider that, but there’s a burst of applause and catcalls that signals the end of Owen and Willy’s performance. The emcee gets up on stage and looks down at her list.

“And now, we have Nick and Joey, singing “Somebody To Love!”

“It could be worse, I guess,” Scratch says. Joey groans and tries to make himself small – but despite the fact that he hangs out with a bunch of giants, Joey isn’t a small man. Trigger appears behind the two of them like magic.

“Time to go,” he says, and the next thing Joey knows he and Scratch are standing on the stage, clutching microphones and squinting at the karaoke screens. There’s a countdown, and Joey takes a deep breath.

“Can. Anybodyyyyyy? Find meeeeee. Somebody toooo – love,” they start, and they’re off.

They actually got pretty lucky, Joey thinks muzzily, because about half the bar starts singing along as soon as they recognize the song, so even factoring in the microphones it’s not particularly easy to hear them singing. It makes him feel a little better, until he looks over at Scratch, who has started getting really into it. He’s strutting around the tiny karaoke stage, hamming it up for the audience.

Scratch sees him looking and raises an eyebrow, basically saying, “Dare you, Money,” which – Joey might be a little competitive. Just a little.

For the lyrics “I get down on my knees and I start to pray,” he drops down to his knees and stares up at Scratch, who looks at him wide-eyed, then seems to realize what he’s doing. There are scattered whoops from the audience, and someone who is probably Willy yelling “Get it!”

Scratch pulls him back to his feet, but sings the next few lines _at_ Joey in a way that he wasn’t doing before, all meaningful eye contact and longing gestures. Joey retaliates with air guitar, making sure to throw plenty of hip thrusts into it. Scratch almost has to stop singing because he’s struggling not to laugh, and Joey grins, smug.

Scratch gets back at him by grabbing him and twirling with him for a second and then _dipping_ him during “Got no feel, got no rhythm,” and Joey drops the microphone in his surprise. He scrambles to pick it back up and get back into the song, feeling his face heat. There are more whoops from the audience and a few whistles. Joey isn’t really paying attention to the singing anymore, which means that Scratch probably wins. Joey tries to think but he’s so drunk that it’s hard to make his brain work.

Scratch drapes an arm around his shoulders and leans up against him. He pulls the mic away from his mouth and looks down at Joey, muttering, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Joey says. The rest of the bar is still singing along, and Scratch’s eyes are really dark right now, and his hair is super curly. He’s sweating from the heat of the bar and from jumping all over the stage. Just as the song ends, Joey leans up and kisses him. There are cheers and whistles from the audience the audience and he thinks he can hear Trigger booing. When he pulls back from the kiss, Scratch is blinking at him, expression completely blank.

“I win,” Joey says.

Something that looks like anger flashes over Scratch’s face for a second before smoothing back out. He gives himself a shake, then grabs Joey by the hand and pulls him off the stage. “C’mon,” he says over the raucous applause and catcalls. “Let’s go get you something to eat.”

Joey allows himself to be towed towards the door, waving goodbye to Owen and Willy and the rest of the bachelor party. Trigger has a very smug look on his face, which is the last thing Joey sees before they leave the bar.


	4. Day of the Wedding

_are we carpooling to the wedding or not_ , Joey texts Scratch the morning of the wedding. He tries not to just stare at his phone waiting for a response, but finds himself hauling it out of his pocket every couple of seconds to check on it, even though he has the ringer turned on, instead of concentrating on getting his laundry done.

He’s not sure _why_ he’s so antsy about this but he’d meant to ask Scratch about it when he came over yesterday (they hadn’t made plans, but Scratch usually came over on the weekends to play Fortnite and eat Joey’s food, and then he just. . . hadn’t come. And Joey hadn’t originally thought anything of it, but he’d texted Scratch a couple of times – just random things he’d thought were funny, that he’d thought Scratch might like, and he hadn’t gotten a response. Eventually he’d texted Scratch _hey you okay?_ and gotten a thumbs up emoji in response, but still no Scratch.

It’s not that weird, he tells himself. They don’t hang out _every_ weekend but usually Scratch at least responds when Joey texts him, or Scratch texts him first. This near radio silence is unusual, and Joey doesn’t like it. He thinks it might have something to do with what happened at the bachelor party, but Joey can’t remember most of it. He’s not sure if he did something he needs to apologize for or not.

Eventually his phone buzzes and Joey fumbles it out of his pocket, dropping it in his hurry. s _ure_ , Scratch has texted him. Joey waits for a minute, but nothing else comes through.

 _what time do you want to leave?_ he asks.

_idk, like 3? the ceremony isn’t until 3:30_

Joey responds with his own thumbs up emoji, then looks around his apartment. He needs to figure out something to distract himself with until 3:00.

He completely fails to find anything that is enough to distract him, and it feels like the day has been dragging on forever when it’s finally time to get ready. He pulls on his good suit with something that’s oddly like relief, then spends probably too much time in the bathroom trying to get his hair to behave.

He hears the sound of his apartment door opening, and then “Yo, Money, stop fucking with your hair!” He pulls his hands away from his head almost guiltily.

“I’m not!” he calls back to Scratch, who makes a disbelieving sound.

“Are you coming or not?” Scratch says, from closer – right outside the bathroom door, apparently, as Joey finds out when he opens it and sees Scratch there, leaning against the hallway wall.

“Looking sharp, Money,” Scratch says. There’s something weird in his voice that makes Joey peer at him suspiciously. It probably isn’t mockery, but Joey turns back to the mirror to double check that his hair isn’t a total disaster just in case. It’s about as good as it’s going to get, so he looks back at Scratch.

“It’s weird seeing you in a suit,” he says, because it’s true. Only Willy has to regularly wear suits to work, the rest of them basically live in slacks and polos. He looks – he actually looks really good, which is a weird thought that Joey is not touching with a 10 foot pole.

Scratch’s face does something weird before it smooths out again. “I ordered an Uber, it should be here pretty soon,” he says. “Let’s get downstairs.”

By the time they arrive at the venue, Joey knows that something is wrong, because the Uber ride over was filled with an awkward silence. He tried to start a conversation a couple of times, but Scratch responded only with monosyllables or grunts, and eventually Joey gave up.

Scratch does grab his hand before they go in, though, so Joey is having all sorts of emotional whiplash over here.

Joey cries during the ceremony – he can’t quite help himself. Expressions of earnest emotion like weddings always get him. He’s already a little misty eyed and then they get to the vows, and actual tears begin dripping down his face.

“Tate, you’re my favorite person,” Owen says, a giant smile on his face. “No matter what, whether I’ve been having a good day or a really terrible one, I’m always so glad to come home and tell you all about it. Sharing things with you makes everything better, so I’m looking forward to sharing a life with you.

I promise to listen to you always and take your opinions seriously, to indulge your ridiculous competitive streak, to get you out of trouble when I can and to follow you into it when I can’t. I promise to be your partner in everything you do and to love you, always.” Owen’s eyes are suspiciously shiny as he finishes talking but he’s not actually crying. Willy squeezes his hands, then begins.

“Owen, I’m still not sure what I did to be lucky enough to meet you, let alone ask you to marry me and have you say yes,” Willy says, and there’s a brief murmur of laughter from the listening group. “You’re my favorite person too, my very best friend. I’m so excited to be married to you.

I promise to remind you that the outside world exists when you get caught up in your work, to make sure that you’ve remembered to eat and drink enough, to celebrate your victories and commiserate with any setbacks, and to be your number one fan all the time. I promise to be the best husband I can be, and to love you, always.”

There’s a moment of silence, as they stare at each other, and then the officiant clears his throat and the ceremony moves on. Scratch pokes Joey in the side and hands him a tissue. Joey isn’t sure where Scratch got it, because he doesn’t cry at weddings, but he takes it and knocks their elbows together in thanks. He kind of wants to blow his nose, but doesn’t, because just then Willy and Owen are kissing and he and the rest of the guests have to applaud and cheer.

⁂

Willy and Owen have sprung for an open bar, which is extremely generous of them. Joey feels a little bad taking advantage of it, because it has to be costing them a fortune (or their families – Joey isn’t completely sure who’s paying for the wedding). Scratch doesn’t, because, “They knew what they signed up for when they agreed to this, Money, so let’s enjoy it.”

Joey still feels a little bad. He gives the bartender a large tip, which she pockets, looking amused, as he takes his drink and heads over to congratulate the grooms.

“Money!” Willy gets up from the table to give him a hug, and so does Owen. “Thanks for coming!”

“Congratulations, both of you,” Joey says. “It was a beautiful ceremony.”

“Thank you, Joey,” Owen says, smiling. His cheeks are probably going to hurt tomorrow – Willy’s too, Joey thinks. He doesn’t think they’ve stopped smiling since the ceremony started.

“You and Scratch gonna be next?” Willy asks, and it feels like Joey’s entire brain shorts out. He’s saved from having to answer by one of Owen’s cousins coming up to congratulate them, so he mumbles something and flees as fast as he can back to their table. Scratch frowns at him when he gets back.

“Dude, what happened? You look like someone just whacked you upside the head.”

“I – “ Joey can’t quite get the words out. “Willy – “

Scratch just looks confused. Joey’s brain is still trying to process the idea of him and Scratch getting _married_ – that they had apparently done a good enough job pretending to date that Willy thinks that they could be getting _married_. They haven’t even really been doing anything differently! All that’s changed is a little bit of hand-holding!

Joey decides that he’s far too sober to be having any sort of realization and takes a big gulp of his drink. Scratch looks concerned, but luckily Trigger also gets back from the bar just then and distracts him.

Joey takes another big drink and tries to figure out how he feels about the assumption that he and Scratch are going to get married. All he’s really getting right now is “confused.” He wishes that he could talk his feelings over with Owen, but there are two problems with that:

  * This is Owen’s wedding, and he’s more than a little busy right now, and
  * Joey and Scratch didn’t tell anyone about their plan, so he thinks that they are actually dating, and might be hurt that they lied to him.



Joey is so completely fucked. He mumbles something about needing to go to the bathroom and makes his way away from the table, trying to figure out who he can talk to who might be able to help him figure out what to do.

Eventually he ends up hiding in the bathroom, texting Casey again. This time she calls him.

“Joey, what the fuck,” she says.

“Do you think Scratch and I are going to get married?”

There’s a long silence. “Last I knew, you still hadn’t asked him out, so, unless you’ve grown a pair since then, probably not.”

“Not funny, Casey,” Joey hisses.

“I wasn’t really joking,” she says. Sisters are the _worst_. “Seriously, Joey, you’ve had a crush on him for ages, I–“

She’s cut off by Joey exclaiming, probably too loudly, “I _do not have a crush on Scratch!”_

There’s an uncomfortable silence. “Are you _sure,_ though?”

“ _Yes_ , I’m sure – what, why do you think that?”

“I mean, you only mention him about every 30 seconds when we talk, and you’re always texting him when you come home for a visit, and there’s the amount of bitching that I had to put up with when he was dating that girl a few years ago, you remember.”

“She was terrible for him,” Joey says firmly. Casey hums.

“If you say so, bro. Look, if you say you don’t have a crush on him, that’s your business, but like – from what I can tell you’re hiding off somewhere at your friends’ wedding because they thought you and Scratch might be getting married and it freaked you out. So, did it freak you out because you hate the thought of it, or because you _don’t_ hate the thought of it?”

“I . . . “ Joey hesitates. “I guess. . . .”

“You go figure that out,” Casey says. “Look, I gotta get back, we were eating dinner when I had to go and talk you through your crisis, I think it’s cold now.”

“Wait, no –“ She’s already hung up on him.

Joey would like to keep hiding in the bathroom, but eventually someone else is going to come in here. It might even be Scratch, or Willy, or Owen. So he drags himself out of his nice safe hiding place and back to the reception, where people have started giving toasts. He doesn’t want to walk through that to get back to the table, so he leans against a wall at the edge of the reception and does his best not to think about what Casey said.

He’s not very successful, though, because his brain is suddenly presenting him with a lot of memories of him and Scratch, seen through a slightly different lens – all that time spent hanging out together, the way they gravitate to each other when they’re hanging out in groups. He’s remembering the way Willy had reacted when they’d told him they were going together to the wedding – no surprise at the thought of them as a couple. The way all of their friends had reacted with the same lack of surprise when _they’d_ found out.

“You and Scratch gonna be next?” Willy had asked him, and Joey – doesn’t hate the thought. He doesn’t want to get _married_ , at least not yet, but like – dating Scratch. That could be good, he thinks.

The toasts wrap up eventually, and Joey makes his way back over to where Scratch and Trigger are talking to some other guests – he thinks they’re Willy’s family. Scratch looks up as Joey gets back and leans over, muttering, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Joey says, because there’s not much else he _can_ say. “Oh, Willy blew my mind by making me realize I’d like it if we were dating?” Please.

“Okay, dude,” Scratch says, a little dubiously, but he leaves it alone. The DJ has gotten on the microphone and is introducing the grooms for their first dance. Joey watches, and tears up a little bit again. The music is incredibly cheesy and Owen and Willy are clearly not good dancers, but they seem so happy and in love that it sort of transcends the moment.

After the first song, other people start piling on the dance floor. Joey heads back over the bar to get another drink, and when he gets back, he finds one of Willy’s slightly younger cousins flirting with Scratch, who seems mildly freaked out by it. Trigger, still sitting next to Scratch, is doing absolutely nothing to save him from her – probably just enjoying Scratch’s awkwardness. Joey sighs, but nobly goes to rescue his date.

“Hey, you wanna dance?”

Scratch squints at him for a second – he knows Joey’s not a great dancer, and wasn’t planning on dancing tonight, but then his eyes widen as he glances at Willy’s cousin. “Yeah,” he says, getting up. She looks a little disappointed, but also like she might think that they’re cute, which – Joey isn’t sure whether to be smug or uncomfortable.

They sway in silence for the first verse of the song – Joey isn’t even sure what song it is. It might be about cars? Then Scratch says, “You were gone for a while earlier, everything alright?”

“Yeah, I think so. I was talking to Casey.” This makes both of Scratch’s eyebrows go up.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I just-“ he breaks off as they have to dodge out of the way of an older couple doing a pretty impressive-looking dance. Once they’ve gone on past, Joey looks up at Scratch, and the two of them start cracking up.

“No, it’s very impressive,” Scratch says, after a few seconds when they’ve had a chance to catch their breath. “A little weird, but impressive.”

“Oh, a lot impressive,” Joey says, watching the other couple as they spin around the floor, almost bowling over four or five other dancing couples and eventually knocking into the back of one of the girls dancing in a group. He winces.

“Whoops,” Scratch says, and Joey starts laughing again, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against Scratch’s shoulder without thinking about it. When he realizes what he’s doing, he pulls away and looks up, guiltily. Scratch’s expression, looking down at him, was suspiciously soft, but it goes blank quickly when Joey meets his eyes. Joey takes a deep breath and decides to be brave.

“So I was talking to Casey, because Willy asked when you and I were going to get married,” he says. Scratch goes suddenly stiff next to him, and looks away. “And I realized that I might . . . want that. If you do,” he says in a rush, because Scratch is his best friend and that’s still more important than anything else. “If you don’t, it’s fine, I just-“

“Money,” Scratch interrupts him. “Did you just ask me to marry you without asking me on a date first?”

“Uh.” Joey’s eyes are fastened on his feet, because that is in fact what he just did. Scratch doesn’t say anything, but Joey can feel it when he starts shaking. Joey peeks back up at his face, because – yep, that’s laughter. Joey’s entire face feels like he just set it on fire, and this is the worst, this is definitely the worst, he’s going back to his apartment and never coming out ever again . . .

“Jesus, Money, only you,” Scratch says and he doesn’t sound disgusted, he sounds . . . fond? Joey peeks back up at his face and sees that Scratch is smiling at him, the way he does when he just can’t help it. Joey hesitantly smiles back at him, and Scratch leans down and presses their smiles together.

It is objectively a truly terrible kiss, because neither of them can stop smiling long enough for it to really be called a kiss at all. Joey doesn’t care. It feels familiar, although Joey definitely does not remember having kissed Scratch before.

“So wait, is that a yes?” he finally remembers to ask. Scratch rolls his eyes.

“No, Money, I’m not going to marry you,” he says. Joey’s heart, which had been bursting with all sorts of wonderful things, does a slow turn in his chest before plunging down into his stomach, where he starts to feel a little queasy. “But I’ll go on another date with you. Turns out you’re not a bad date.” Joey feels totally justified in punching him in the arm.

“You’re the _worst_ ,” he complains, then immediately undercuts that by grabbing Scratch by the shoulders and tugging him closer. Scratch just grins.

“That’s alright. You like me anyway.” And, well. Joey can’t exactly dispute that, so instead he leans up to try kissing Scratch again. It goes much better this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks also to my fabulous betas - Bluebead, HelenOrvana and rewindthat6. I am extremely grateful for the help that y'all gave me in terms of making sure all of this flows properly and reads well. 
> 
> This is pretty clearly an AU - they work in an office! Owen and Willy are getting married! - but the one piece of canon I feel I've disregarded most is that Joey is canonically shitty at math, and, well, I made him an accountant. All the rest of my choices make sense to me in the context of this AU, but me turning Joey into an accountant is blatant disregard for a canon fact in the service of turning Joey's nickname into a terrible pun. Honestly, I feel like Taylor would be proud.
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](http://accidentallymelted.tumblr.com) if you like - I don't post a lot of fic there anymore but I might start up again at any point.


End file.
